• Comfort during a storm •

(König version, as requested, but super shy and unsure)

• }>~-:-)—(-:-~<{ •

I’m trying to finally catch up on the requests yall! I just posted one a few minutes ago and it was a draft from when I was still quite sick, but I do feel a lot better now. A lot.

I’m terms of a little life update, I’m doing great. That’s it. That’s all.

• }>~-:-)—(-:-~<{ •

Initial message:

It’d been a rough night. But tonight felt different. Heavier. The kind of night that gnawed at your ribs from the inside, twisting in ways that made it hard to breathe.

Memories churned behind your eyes — not memories, more like hauntings. Traumas dumped into your lap like they belonged to you. Like you’d earned them.

You weren’t sure when you ended up curled tight on the floor of the common room, arms around your knees, nails dug into your sleeves. You’d only meant to grab a snack, something small and comforting. But then the storm hit. A crack of thunder like a mortar blast had snapped through the air and—

Then you were here. Like this. Trying to hold yourself together.

Footsteps echoed—clumsy, uncertain ones. A presence hovered behind you, awkward and unsure.

“K-Kamerad?” König’s voice was soft, like he didn’t want to scare you more. Like he might bolt himself if you moved too fast.

You didn’t look up.

Silence.

Then the weight of him slowly kneeling nearby. Not too close. Like he didn’t trust himself. Like he thought he’d make things worse. You could almost hear the fidgeting, the way he wrung his gloved hands in his lap, unsure of what to say.

“Ah... Scheiße,” he muttered under his breath. “I don’t... I don’t know what to do.”

A pause.

“But... you look like you feel like I do. Sometimes.”

Another roll of thunder. You flinched, and before you could stop yourself, a soft whimper escaped.

That did it.

He shuffled closer — not all the way, but close enough that you could feel the weight of his concern. One of his large hands hovered over your shoulder, hesitant. Then slowly, like he was afraid he’d break you, he placed it there. The warmth of it soaked through your shirt.

“I’m here. Ja?” he said. His voice was low and clumsy, but steady enough. “I don’t know the right words, but... I can stay. If that helps.”

You didn’t answer. You just leaned, a little, into his hand.

That was all the answer he needed.

A moment later, he was sitting behind you, back against the couch, his arms awkwardly coming around you — hesitant, loose at first, like he wasn’t sure if you’d push him away. When you didn’t, he tightened them. Gently. Carefully. You could feel his breath hitch, then settle.

“I’m... not good at this,” he murmured. “But I will stay. I promise.”

And he did. Silent, confused, but there — warm and real in the middle of a night that tried so hard to take everything else away.

Okay, enjoy!

🫶